Mr E's Beautiful Blues
by Elbly
Summary: Eric has been mincing more than his words for far too long and it's time to be straight with Sookie. AH/AU


I write the songs

Contest Entry

TITLE: Mr. E's Beautiful Blues

CHARACTERS: Eric, Sookie, Pam, Ginger, Victor and Maxine

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Charlaine Harris, song title and any lyrics referenced belong to The Eels.

PEN NAME: Elbly

BETA NAME: Janofarc

VIRGIN WRITER : NO

* * *

**PLEASE NOTE!**

**I am British. This "sort of thing" is not uncommon in Britain.**

**THANK YOU!**

**

* * *

**

**Mr. E's Beautiful Blues**

Eric ran his finger down the list of clients for the day. He stopped at the last name and tapped on it a few times, a smile spreading across his face as he did so.

Pam walked in with a tray of take out coffees. Seeing Eric's expression she flung her empty arm across her eyes and cried out in pain. "The light! It burns me! Put those damn teeth away!" dramatically edging closer to him.

"Okay, you're safe, they're hidden" he said; his lips pursed, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

Pam laughed. "Oh stop with the act already." She put the coffees on the side; selected Eric's and handed it to him, then picked up her own with her manicured hand and blew through the small hole in the plastic lid. "So we have a coffee date with Sookie this afternoon I take it?"

Eric sighed, turned from the counter, coffee in hand, and began to busy himself with nothing in particular.

"Ahhh... so we do!" Pam teased, following him. "Oh, it's a _beautiful_ day!"

Putting his coffee cup in the blower holder of one of the styling stations, Eric pulled out a neatly folded stack of towels from a shelf and began to refold them. There was a dull snap as a towel was shaken out, and a fine mist of new-towel-fluff surrounded him.

"Are you going to tell her?" Pam asked. She watched his frustrated display and knew that whatever he said, yet again she would be consoling him that evening and made a mental note to get a few bottles of a warm, soothing red in.

"Maybe? No? Oh I don't know! If it wasn't for those trusty shoes..."Eric shook another towel, then refolded it, no neater than before, but it gave him a distraction.

"Everyone's favorite size nines." Pam sipped at her coffee.

She caught his eyes and as one, they moved, knees bent, faces closer together, voices shrill they squealed "SHOES!" then straightened up, and other than a slight smirk from both, there was no sign of their bizarre little display.

Another towel snapped.

Pam sauntered off into the back, her shoes clicking on the tiled floor as she went.

The bell above the shop door jingled. "You forgot the coffees again Ginger." Pam called.

"Oh shoot!" The pretty young woman exclaimed as she scuttled from the doorway over to Eric; her skirt slightly too tight around her knees. "How does she always know Mr. E?" she whispered in earnest.

"She's psychic." He dramatically whispered back, glancing over Ginger's shoulder to catch Pam rolling her eyes. "She knows your underwear's not matching again too. You know how important that is to her." He winked; not a subtle wink, but the wink of a man who wants the whole world to know there was something to wink about, somewhat like facial gymnastics, if such a sport existed.

Ginger gasped and instantly pulled the neck of her top forward to check what bra she had put on that morning. Letting go of her top she thrust her hand down the waist of her skirt and pulled up her panties. "Oh Mr. E!" she squealed as she playfully smacked him about the shoulder a few times. "You know, if you and Victor weren't like _that_ I'd think you _liked_ watching me play with my undies!"

Eric chuckled. "I meant matching mine!" he said. Dropping the towel on the pile and cupping his hands below his pecs, he animatedly adjusted his fictitious underwear.

"Speaking of Victor, when are you going to fire his tardy ass?" Pam asked, fishing Eric's coffee from the blower hole and dropping a hair dryer in its place.

Ginger snapped round; the startled expression of a permanently surprised goldfish was fixed on her face, partly by make-up and partly by design. She hadn't realized Pam was there, much to Eric's amusement. Their daily routine wasn't complete without Pam witnessing his sexual harassment of their dazed receptionist.

"I'm sure he'll be here when his Momma's finished dressing him; she does like to fuss. I wonder what clothes she'll have picked out for him today."

"You're starting early this morning Eric! Do I need to fetch you a saucer of milk, or will the cream in your coffee be enough for now?" Pam asked; her tone was flavored 'dead pan' with just a hint of 'Ooh! Girlfriend!'

Ginger scuttled anxiously to her position of safety behind the reception desk, keeping Pam within eye sight at all times. Eric smirked as he snapped his fingers and waggled his head with enthusiasm and a smattering of sarcasm; a few of wisps of his ice cream-blond hair released themselves from his little pony tail, framing his face.

As if on cue, the shop bell tinkled once more and a slender young man posed himself dramatically in the doorway, holding the door open with his foot. Hair perfectly spiked, skin tight, designer-ripped jeans riding the sharp curves of his hips like a motorbike rides a country lane, and a t-shirt so pink that Hello Kitty would jump at the chance of parking herself on it – which she had done by the way, in a little car, next to an ice-cream truck manned by a frog.

"Guess!" he exclaimed. He threw his head back with a camp shrug, the way women in hair-product commercials do, but with somewhat less style. "Guess who has been head-hunted!"

"Please let it be you." Pam replied between her teeth. "And tell me it was with a shot gun, you'll make my day."

"Oh Pamela! How I love our little chats!" he replied, batting his eyelids as he let go of the door and minced his way into the salon. "Russell wants me to be his new Colorist! So put that up your front bottom and smoke it!"

"That old chestnut again. I swear Victor, if you listened to everything Russell told you while you have his dick in your mouth, you'll believe the moon-light can condition better than Redken. Why do you have to blow the competition anyway? It's cheap. And tacky"

"You know all about cheap! Those shoes from KMart?" Victor tried to put Pam down, but his comeback skills were as well developed as his cutting technique, which was why he was failing to move up the Stylist ladder. "Besides, if Eric let me suck his, I wouldn't need to."

"Children! Children!" Eric called, putting his hands into a T shape to signal time out. "We will drink our coffees, sweep the floor, fold the towels and generally prepare… then, and _only_ then, will I allow hair pulling and nail-gouging on the shop floor before the customers appear, provided there's enough time to mop up the blood."

Victor poked his tongue out at Pam and then turned to give Eric his best ass-kissing smile.

"I meant your blood Victor. My money's on Pam any day of the week." Eric quipped. Victor gasped, grabbed a towel, shook it for dramatic effect, and marched out to the back. "And I don't put my dick anywhere near my subordinates – last time that happened Pam switched teams."

"Why do I feel like I'm the only one who likes men around here? I mean the only one who likes men who like women." Ginger giggled as she filed her nails.

"Because you're _special_ my dear." Eric answered.

Ginger beamed at the double edged complement, and Pam rolled her eyes, again.

"You always say the nicest things to me Mr. E! You're the best boss!" she prattled in complete earnest.

"I don't say anything you don't deserve Ginger." Eric said. Ginger just grinned. Eric was pleased that it was easy to keep at least one of his staff happy.

==O==

"Toodles!" Eric called out as he waved off his customer. Turning to Ginger he quietly said, "For the love of all that's holy do _not_ book that woman in for me again! She tips in meatballs!" Eric waved the plastic box at the receptionist with a look of utter disgust on his face. "Meatballs! Look at the size of them! They're huge"

"Maybe she thought the balls you normally chew on aren't big enough or meaty enough?" Ginger replied with sincerity and innocence.

Eric blinked at her, not sure if he should laugh first or wait for her realize what she had said.

He waited. Her face remained placid.

Eric flipped up his hand to silence the non-verbal receptionist. "Ginger, did you just make a funny?"

Ginger's eyes widened as the potential double meaning of her words hit home, then a grin spread across her lips that would have made the Cheshire Cat worry about his job security. "You know Mr. E! I think I did!"

Eric leaned a little closer and whispered kindly: "Well I won't tell Pam you're trying to take her _Queen of Comedy_ crown if you won't." He winked at her, jovially, and took a step back. "So, you want these meat balls?" he asked her.

"Oh no, I think my boyfriend might be intimundated," she giggled.

"I think you mean intimidated." Eric corrected.

For a moment Ginger's face was blank, not quite able to note the difference between the two words, but there was an understanding there somewhere that Mr. E was pretty much always right, so she smiled and nodded. "Yeah! That's the one. And I booked her back in for six weeks, as always."

Eric rolled his eyes at the prospect of yet another helping of giant meat balls in six weeks time. "So!" He clapped his hands together with gusto. "Which lovely lady do we have next?" he said, enthusiastically, looking round for his next customer. "Would that be you Mrs. F?"

A woman whose physique would best be described as 'cuddly' was sat on the sofa, her attention caught by a trashy gossip magazine that Eric himself had read on sufferance. Victor and Ginger lapped them up, but Pam shared Eric's view that every job had its downsides, and for them it was celebrity gossip; customers did love a good gossip while they were being coiffed and second to friends and family came the 'Celebs'.

Maxine Fortenberry looked up from an article about a hot young Swede, her round face flushed from some of the more exotic images of him. "This mag one of yours Mr. E? Whew!" she exclaimed, fanning herself with the magazine.

Eric held open his arms to welcome his client and flashed her his most charming smile. Maxine was a longstanding friend of Sookie's grandmother, and Sookie was her favorite topic of conversation. It wasn't that Maxine thought Eric had anything other than an eye for men, but she seemed to be convinced that it was a 'phase' and the more she talked about lovely available young women, the sooner this phase would be over. She daren't talk too much about her own son for fear that Eric might decide she was trying to set him up with her darling Hoyt. Eric was more than happy to let her carry on with this fancy, but knew, should fate ever smile on him, Maxine would take every drop of credit available for a turn around, and he'd never hear the end of it. He had to concede though that it would be a small price to pay.

"Spotted something you fancy?" Eric asked, nodding at the magazine.

Maxine took Eric's outstretched hands, stood back from him, looked him up and down, waggled her eyebrows and giggled like a girl forty years her junior. "Always!" she said.

"Oh stop! Stop!" Eric fluttered his eyelids and dropped his head to the side coyly. He added a feint hint of a lisp; his most powerful tool in fending off unwanted female attention. Holding the gaze of Maxine's reflection he asked, "So, what are we doing with you today?"

"Whatever you like, I put myself completely in your hands. I'm always satisfied when you're finished with me." Maxine flirted comfortably with him, just as all his customers did. Occasionally Eric found the back and forth of fake banter beneath him, but mostly it was harmless fun that past the day.

"Okay, let me see," He said as he combed her hair through, assessing the damage that her cheap shampoo had caused. "So how are things with you? Anything exciting been happening for you lately?"

"Well now, let's see. We did real well at our bake sale last week! We made more than two hundred dollars for the police veteran's fund. Did I tell you my late husband was a police man? I'm sure I did. Caroline Bellefleur's become a great-grand-mammy…" she rattles on, Eric continues to comb and pays little attention. He's waiting for some news of Sookie, a little tidbit of information he can cling to until he's able to talk to her himself. "And then of course there's Adele's granddaughter, Sookie. She's recently single you know."

The comb leapt from Eric's fingers and dropped down the front of Maxine's garishly patterned, low-cut top.

"Silly me!" Eric exclaimed, and thrust his hand between her breasts to find the escaped comb.

Maxine's eyes shot open, and a slight 'Ooh' escaped her lips. It had been quite a while since any man had put his hands there, and it was a moment she was determined to remember for a long time.

"Eric!" Pam scalded without taking her attention away from her customer. Eric often joked that she was psychic, but he did sometimes wonder if there wasn't some element of truth to it; she did have an uncanny way of knowing when he'd done something he really shouldn't, and he loved it.

"What?" Eric asked with the tone of a naughty boy whose hand had been caught in the proverbial cookie jar.

"Oh don't worry Mr. E." Maxine said, looking Eric's reflection in the eye and placing her hand on his to reassuringly. "I didn't feel a thing."

Eric's brow furrowed in exaggerated earnest. "Don't worry Mrs. F! Neither did I!" He winked and his lips curled into a broad grin.

Pam rolled her eyes. "Honestly!" she muttered.

"So!" Eric regained his calm. "You were saying about Sookie…"

"Oh yes!" Maxine recalled. "Well! You remember there was that two timing toad she was dating a long while back? Well she got over him, then it was this creepy bald guy…"

Eric shook out a black cape and held it out for Maxine to put her arms into. He knew Sookie's dating history so well he could have taken a pop-quiz on it and passed with 120% and he was impatient to get to the part about 'newly single', but Maxine was not a woman to be hurried. Gesturing towards the wash area, he nodded along with what she was saying.

==O==

"Hey Sookie!"

Eric's heart skipped a beat at Ginger's greeting. He didn't look up from Maxine's hair for fear that he might take off more than she could afford to lose.

"Hey Ginger! How are you? I _love_ your nails! They're always so perfect. Who does them for you?" Sookie's sweet voice curled itself around every syllable with innocence and delight. Eric couldn't help but picture her sentences as little presents, wrapped in sparkling paper and tied with a perfect pastel pink or blue bow to match.

"Oh I do them myself. I do my sister's too. I could do yours if you like." Ginger offered excitedly, her smile widening at the prospect of helping her boss's favorite client.

"That's a mighty nice offer Ginger! But you know something, with a skill like that you should be doing it professionally. I say we talk to Mr. E about putting a nail bar in here. I'd be your first regular!"

Had he really just heard Sookie suggest something that would bring her into his salon more often? Eric reasoned that of course the extra money would be nice, and he probably wouldn't have to up Ginger's wage to start with, because the tips would make up for that, but it would bring in more money for the shop, and more Sookie. And that would mean more coffee dates…

Eric's mind wondered and his comb slipped from his fingers and down Maxine's black cape. She picked it up from her lap and handed it back to him. "You sure you should be cutting hair today Mr. E? You do seem to have butter fingers right now. Once is one thing, but twice… Make sure if you're going to drop anything else it's not the scissors!" She chuckled.

"If he's going to drop anything I vote it's his pants!" Victor called from his station over the noise of his dryer. He had been uncharacteristically quiet all day, and Eric was mildly annoyed that Victor had chosen _now_ of all moments to open his mouth.

"I'll second that." Sookie responded. She gave Ginger a saucy grin and wink which made the receptionist giggle.

"I'm _so _sorry Mrs. F!" Eric said, ignoring Victor's request and fighting the blush that Sookie's remark had caused to warm the back of his neck. He focused his attention to his work and hoped his cheeks would not glow like a beacon next to his white t-shirt. "We're all done with the scissors, and I can assure you, you will look perfect when I'm finished with you!" Eric ran his hands through her damp hair and ruffled it to add some body that was otherwise lacking. He pushed the pump on the nearby bottle of product, catching the goop, smearing it between his fingers, then over Maxine's snipped locks. "And we'll discuss the nail bar in the morning Ginger, but it sounds like a good idea," he called out over his shoulder.

Behind him, Ginger squeaked.

He tried to remain calm and nonchalant as Sookie made her way over to him; he was determined to be just a little more hetero, but his nerves cranked up to max and auto-pilot kicked in.

"Sookie! _DARLING!_ You're looking super!" he gushed at her, his tone nearly an octave higher than he'd planned.

They air kissed each other's cheeks, twice. The '_mwah_'s' from Eric were so pronounced that even Victor wrinkled his nose in horror.

Sookie looked up at the tall stylist and gazed dreamily into his eyes. "Your blues are looking beautiful and sparkly today Mr. E! You been drinking lots of water like I suggested?"

Eric's tongue lost its ability to form any shapes, and just lay useless in his mouth; his neck found motion however and nodded his obedience. Anything for Sookie.

"Oh will you look at the pair of you!" Maxine exclaimed. "You're just so cute! If it wasn't for the fact that… well… yes… we won't talk about that… you pair would just make an adorable couple."

"She's right." Sookie replied. "But I guess I'll have to keep looking." She winked at Maxine and then beamed up at Eric, patting his hand in with affection. "So who's washing me today?" Pulling on Eric's arm she lowered his ear to her lips and she quietly added "Not Victor, please! He tries too hard. Really, you need to give him lessons on how not to over-egg that pudding, you know, man to man."

Eric's heart didn't know whether to sing or sob. He was the only queer she wanted touching her hair, which was great, apart from the elephant in the room he couldn't bring himself to talk about. "He's young, he'll learn," he whispered back. "But Pam said she'd wash you today, sorry I'm running a little behind."

"Never a problem to me, Mr. E, you know that." Sookie smiled at him, throwing her arms around his waist for a quick hug. She trotted off to the couch to wait for Pam.

"It's Eric by the way, how many times do I have to ask you to call me Eric?" The last part was said longingly under his breath, just loud enough for Maxine to catch, and if it hadn't been for the pile of straw that made up her brain, she might have seen through the ruse.

"I know." Sookie said. She looked up over the magazine she'd buried her nose in. "But Mr. E just seems to fit you for some reason. Eric doesn't have the same ring to it. It just sounds so… straight! You'll always be Mr. E to me."

It was a few minutes before Pam thanked her last customer of the day for buying the hair products she pushed liked drugs to a new user: this one will improve your curls; this one will reduce your frizz; this one will hold your style. '_And this one will give you a shiny coat and wet nose'_ thought Sookie to herself.

"So Sookie! Shall we get you wet?" Pam asked.

"None of your Lesbian weirdness today thank you Pam!" Sookie chuckled as she walked over to the wash area.

"How are your shoes today?"

Sookie looked down at her feet. "They are comfy enough, thank you for asking." She replied. A small switch somewhere in the back of her mind flicked and a little light bulb of realization began to glow. "Oh my _trusty shoes_? My _trust issues_?" Sookie let out a little groan. "How about we just get me wet?" she said as she got as comfortable as she could with a porcelain bowl pressing into the back of her neck and closed her eyes.

Pam grinned at her friend. It was probably fair to call Sookie a friend after the amount of time they had spent together over the years as Sookie came in, had her hair done, flirted with Eric and went away again. They weren't sleep-over and braiding each other's hair level of friends, although Pam noted that she had actually braided Sookie's hair, but being paid for it didn't count.

"Maxine tells us you're newly single." Pam had never been one to mince her words; if there was something she wanted to say, she said it. "So how's that working out for you?" she asked as she sprayed Sookie's hair with the lukewarm water.

"It's not that new, it's been six weeks, and it's okay I guess. Better than going out with someone who doesn't know what honesty is. I just want a man whose whole life isn't one big lie." Sookie sighed. "Why am I telling you this?"

"Because you forgot I wasn't Eric?" Pam answered. She examined one of her hands quickly and added, "Sounds like I need a manicure if my hands feel that rough."

Sookie tutted. "Eric has lovely soft hands as well you know!" She chuckled. "Speaking of Mr. E, how's he been? He seemed a little distant last time we had coffee. Everything's okay isn't it?"

"With Eric? Fine."

"Oh good. I do worry about him." Sookie said.

Pam noted that behind the fairly innocent statement was a level of concern that most people saved for their nearest and dearest. She had talked with Sookie many times while washing or styling her hair, the conversation nearly always quickly turned to Sookie's favorite topic and Pam could feel it heading that way now.

"So who is Eric dating at the moment? And is he good enough for our Mr. E?" Sookie asked.

"Do I have to dignify that question with an answer?" Pam sighed. The same questions, every time! She often wondered what the pair of them discussed on their coffee dates. Clearly they were too busy talking to each other to hear what the other way saying. "He's not dating anyone right now" she said, repeating this statement for the umpteenth time. Her exasperation played out in the raising of eyes to the ceiling and only a little hint of it in her voice, which she was sure Sookie would fail to hear… again!

After a brief silence Sookie spoke again. "You know, I've been thinking, maybe I should just give up on straight men. The sex is never _all that_, and they never want to go shopping, or watch sweet movies."

"And do what exactly? Switch teams? You know I love you, but you're just not the one for me." Pam's sarcastic tone made Sookie snort.

"Well maybe I should try and convince Eric that we should shack up together. I think I could cope without having a family, and I would still let him date. Just so long as I got my hugs I think I could be happy." Sookie's tone was not serious, but Pam had heard this little speech many times before.

"I'm not sure it would work out quite like that Sookie." Pam smirked. _No, _she thought._ Eric would be more than happy to provide you with much more than hugs given half the chance._

Sookie felt a pat on her knee.

"Give my love to your Grandmother won't you?" Maxine asked.

"Sure thing. Is your hair looking good? I can't see you from this angle." Sookie chirped.

"It looks great, it always does. That man works miracles!" Maxine cupped her hair in her hands as she assessed her new look in the mirror.

"Yes he does." Sookie said, a little wistfully. "Yes he does."

The doorbell tinkled as Maxine left the salon. Victor and Ginger both followed her out; Victor muttering something about a date and Ginger still on a high from the prospect of running her own little nail bar.

Pam wrung out Sookie's hair and gently wrapped a towel around it. Sookie sat up, picked her bag up from by her feet and pushed herself out of the chair. Pam watched her walk towards Eric and said nothing, but expressed her opinions very clearly with her eyes which did a merry dance as they rolled, looked up, waggled a bit and rolled some more. Should anyone have wanted to know what her opinions were they might have looked, but she was well aware she wasn't just the third wheel, no, she was the puncture repair kit.

For a second Pam thought it looked like Eric's composure would hold and the act might crumble. "Darling! That cape is _so_ you!" he gushed at her sarcastically. Pam decided the pain of his display was too much to bear witness to, so she busied herself around the salon. "And what am I doing for you today?" Eric asked as he took Sookie's hand and guided her into the chair. He fitted a guard around her shoulders to help catch any stray hairs, and removed the towel from her head.

"Oh do whatever you like. I'm feeling brave and I'm prepared for anything!" Sookie replied with innocence and a smile. Pam, returning from the back with a heap of freshly laundered towels, groaned very quietly to herself at the unintended double entendre.

Eric began to comb out Sookie's damp hair. "So how have you been? It's been what? Six weeks since we saw you last?"

Pam was well aware that Eric knew exactly how long it had been since the object of his desire had last been at the Salon, almost certainly to within an hour, possibly minute, maybe even seconds. Quietly, she began to fold the towels.

"It's been nearly seven weeks actually. And I'm good, I'm single, which I'll have to tell you _all_ about, but, before we get onto that, I just _have_ to talk to you about something! Pam tells me you're single…"

Eric's heart skipped a beat. He knew it wouldn't take any more energy to say '_Yes I am. Would you like to go on a date?'_ than to say anything else of any consequence, but when he opened his mouth the words just wouldn't come out. He closed it again and looked to Pam who tilted her head to one side in exasperation, and raised her eye brows with highlights of _'oh for goodness sakes'_ She mouthed words of encouragement at him out of Sookie's eye line, but it did no good.

"It's true, I'm not involved with anyone romantically," he said.

Pam's shoulders slumped; she gave him a look to signify her disappointment and carried on folding towels.

"Wonderful! Because I know this real nice guy called Lafayette. He's so sweet! He's the chef at work and I think you might like him. What do you think?" Sookie looked up at Eric's reflection with excitement at having found a prospective boyfriend for her not-a-girl friend.

Eric considered his options carefully. What would be worse? Having Sookie as a friend only, and believing he was what he was not, or telling her the truth and possibly losing her forever? He knew he'd like to see her more often than just for her six weekly hair appointments, and although it wasn't his ideal solution, going on a date with someone she worked with might give him that chance, especially if…

"How about a double date? You could join us." Eric found himself saying with excitement for the scheme he had no idea he possessed.

"Who would I bring?" Sookie laughed. "I'm not seeing anyone."

"Pam! She could be your date." Eric was sure his mouth hated him. This was not what he should be saying. How was he getting himself into this?

"For fucks sakes!" The cry was heard from across the salon. Pam threw down the towel she was holding and marched over to where Eric was now snipping at the ends of a section of Sookie's hair. "You are _not_ gay!"

There was silence.

Sookie stared at Pam's reflection, which was, in turn, staring at Eric. Fury ripped through her in an instant. Pam wasn't addressing her. It wasn't Sookie's sexuality Pam was talking about. No. It was Eric's. She had been lied to! How could he? All these years? All the things she had told him!

Sookie went to stand up, but felt a hand on top her of her head promptly push her back in place. She seethed. Glaring into the mirror she was confronted by Pam and Eric, staring each other down. Her brow furrowed and arms crossed, with Eric's hand still holding her down, she contemplated wriggling her way out, but noted how close those scissors were to her neck and stayed put.

"You are not going to string some poor schmuck along and bore me rigid, just so you can sit at the same dinner table as Sookie, who is also, if you'd not noticed, _not gay_." Pam was utterly incensed. "And if you think my idea of high jinks is pretending to date someone who's _not gay_, you're very much mistaken." Pam turned to Sookie. "You like him, you know you do, just sit there and let him cut your hair. If you never come back here, well, fine, but you're not leaving here with a half cut. You'll look ridiculous!" Striding back to her heap of towels, Pam shook one out with an angry dull snap. "I'm staying here to referee. If I have to call time out I will be so very much less than impressed."

And then there was silence.

Eric and Sookie stared at each other through their reflections. Her eyes spoke of hurt and resentment, his of shame and apologies. He combed through her hair and searched for something to say that would break the ice.

"I need you to uncross your arms and legs, or your hair will be all wonky," he said. It wasn't, however, the '_I'm sorry' _he wanted to say.

After a brief hesitation, Sookie complied, but her sullen expression clearly stated that it was under sufferance. Eric used his comb to lift a section of hair and started snipping, in silence, once again.

Thoughts raced through Sookie's mind, but there was only one question she kept coming back to, and she needed to know the answer.

"Why?" she asked.

Eric let out a heavy breath. A short and seemingly simple question, but with so many complexities. Why what? Why did he act this way? Why had he not said anything? Why had he let her believe the ruse? He settled for the easiest, most logical response.

"It's good for business." He lifted another section of hair and cut away the split ends. "Women are more comfortable with a gay man cutting their hair than a straight one. But for the record, I've never told you I was gay. I have never had a boyfriend you are aware of, and I have never discussed my sex life with you."

Sookie crossed her arms again in irritation. She tried to think of one instance where he had admitted his sexuality to her, but none would come to mind. "You've never denied it though," was her only defense.

"Uncross your arms please. And no, I have had no reason to. You have never asked me."

Again he was right. There had been conversations where she had deferred to him as 'someone who would know', particularly, she recalled, the time when one ex-boyfriend was trying to encourage her to do things she found less than appealing, and a chat to Mr. E about such things helped settle her mind. _Would it hurt? Is it normal? Is it nice?_ All questions she assumed he could answer because "gay men know these things."

Then realization hit. She had been talking to a straight man, one she had always had a rather large crush on, about some of the most intimate details of her sex life. Eric let go of her hair as she threw her head forward into her hands to cover the blush that was burning in her cheeks.

"The things I've told you!" she mumbled into her hands.

Eric, even now finding it hard to give up the act, stood with one hand on his hip, the other waving his comb and scissors around flamboyantly. He knew there was no way he could admit to her that some of the things they had discussed had kept him warm on cold winter nights.

"I've heard worse," he replied, trying to ease her fears.

She sat back in the chair, her face still a brighter shade of pink, and breathed out slowly to calm herself. Sookie stared directly into Mr. E's beautiful blue eyes and said the one thing he was dreading. "I trusted you."

"I know." He wanted to look away in shame, but held her stare. "And that has made it even harder to tell you. Breaking that trust would ruin… _has_ ruined our friendship. I have known for a long time that telling you would drive you away. I would rather be a small part of your life than out of it completely. Now, can I carry on? Or are you going to thrash about some more?"

Sookie closed her eyes and let out a staggered sigh. "I'll be still."

They remained silent for the rest of the process. Sookie's mind occasionally wondered if Eric was thinking about everything too, or if he was just concentrating on cutting her hair. Her logical half was hoping it was the latter, but her more emotional half wanted him to be groveling for her forgiveness. For the most part, however, she thought long and hard about what he had said.

Sookie knew that Eric was well aware of her _'shoes', _as Pam called them, and not once had he pushed her to do something she didn't want to do. He had never started the conversation about her love life, nor encouraged her to talk about it when she did. Sookie reluctantly had to admit to herself that often Eric had seemed less than keen to discuss her boyfriends, their spectacular failings, and her resulting trust issues. Of all the people she knew, other than her grandmother, he was the one person she had trusted.

Eric gently blow-dried her hair as he continued to fight his internal voice: he should have told her earlier; he should fire Pam for outing him; he should never have let it carry on so long; if only he could wind back time. There was little he could do now, he knew that much, just move on and accept it.

When he was finished, Eric took a hand-held mirror from the side and showed Sookie the results of his efforts. Even if she had been displeased, he was sure she would have just nodded, which she did, simply to be out of there as soon as possible. He took the cutting guard from her shoulders and as Sookie stood, he held out his hands for the cape.

Pam was stood behind Ginger's counter as Sookie made her way over. "I'll cover this. I think it's possibly the least I can do." She said, noting the look in Sookie's eyes.

"Thank you," was the slightly startled and somewhat grateful reply.

"Do you want me to recommend another salon?" Pam asked in a sober tone.

Sookie shook her head, her new style bouncing perfectly as she did so. "No, thank you. Book me in for six weeks time."

Eric closed his eyes as he said a slight prayer of thanks to which ever gods might want to listen.

Sookie's eyes followed him as he walked out to the back and returned with a broom to sweep up her hair. She watched as he carefully found every last strand, and neatly gather it into a small heap.

"Aren't you going to get your coat?" Sookie asked eventually. She was blissfully unaware of Pam's startled expression, which quickly melted into satisfaction. Eric leaned on the broom handle and stared quizzically at the pretty blonde creature he was so eager to know better.

"I thought…" he began.

"Look." Sookie interrupted. "It's just coffee and it's our ritual. You're being let off on a technicality, but I'm not sure I trust you, not completely, not yet."

"Not yet?" He asked hopefully, noting the potential for future trust.

She smiled warmly at him as she gazed into his ice blue eyes. "Not yet."

Eric gave Pam a quick glance in which an unspoken understanding passed between them. She handed him his jacket from under the counter and took the broom from him. Eric slipped his jacket on, put one hand in his pocket and used the other to hold open the door for his date.

The bell to the salon tinkled behind them as he and Sookie stepped out on to the side walk.

"Have I mentioned Mr. E? You have such beautiful blues?" she asked. As she looked up into his flawlessly blue eyes, she slipped her hand into his pocket and interlaced her fingers with his.

_God damn right!_ He thought to himself, _it's a beautiful day!_

==O==


End file.
